


Eyes on Target

by roraruu



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Awkward Crush, Background Relationships, Bonding, Gen, Love Confessions, Mid-Canon, Not Beta Read, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:41:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24889297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roraruu/pseuds/roraruu
Summary: Tobin's got a crush that's distracting him on the battlefield and off it. Too bad his mentor, Python, is the one to call him out on it and gets stuck helping him through it.
Relationships: Efi | Faye/Robin | Tobin, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Python & Robin | Tobin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	Eyes on Target

**Author's Note:**

> this has been hanging in my archives for ages and honestly. i miss faybin so much, its time to throw this to the wolves even if it is just a scrap. i do think python and tobin make an interesting match as mentor/student. the drama cd mentions their relationship in passing and i just. hm. i think python would be his usual asshole self but hey. he doesn't wanna see poor tobin totally crash and burn plus. he's the most approachable of all the deliverance guys. i'd like to do another visit to this someday but not right now. i'm just gonna burn in my pit of echoes feels for the time being lol  
> stay safe out there everyone,  
> as always, thanks for reading n everything y'all do ♥️♥️♥️

“You watchin’ kid?”    
  
Tobin snaps back to attention as Python steps in front of his gaze. His cheeks heat furiously with a blush. His arrow nocks against the indent on his bow, sliding down and falling to the ground. Tobin swoops down to pick it up.  “I asked you a question.” He glances up, the elder archer towering over him with an unimpressed look across his normally-tired face.    
  
_Shit_ , Tobin thinks to himself, doing his best to make the blush on his face fade. He puts the arrow back into his quiver, standing at full height. His grip tightens around the handle of his bow. “I was watching.” He says as politely as he can. 

Something about Python tries his nerves, be it his apathy or his incorrigible nature. He’s supposed to mentor him, show him how to become a better archer, but majority of the time Python is telling him to go piss up a rope.    
  
“Then what was I doin’?” He challenges.   
  
Tobin scrambles for something, anything that will convince the archer that he’s focused on their lesson. He spies a tin of beeswax and a spool of extra bowstring nearby. “You were just showing me how to restring a bow.” He says, forcing the most confidence he can muster amidst embarrassment.    
  
He makes a loud _eh!_ , throwing his thumb down. “Wrong kid!” He says. “You haven’t watched for a damn second. I’m working for nothing.”   
  
“I’m sorry.” Tobin says. He stands straighter, his eyes flickering to the ground.    
  
“Sorry doesn’t give me back the half hour of my life that I just spent on you.” Python says bitterly. Tobin’s gaze flickers back to it’s original spot as he speaks. The elder frowns, following his gaze. “What were you even staring at...”    
  
Tobin quickly turns his eyes to the ground again, trying to find something of note to focus on. A rock, sword, spec of blood from their raw hands, but he’s too late. Python’s gaze is set on Clair and Faye and their winged mounts, locked in training. Clair stands, calling out for Faye to steady her hand and mind. Faye is astride her pegasus, her back curved ever so slightly as she hauls her arm back and throws the weapon, landing below her target. A look of realization comes over Python’s face as he practically rips the bow out of Tobin’s hand and turns to walk away.   
  
“ _H-Hey!_ ” Tobin cries out, running after Python. “I can focus, I know I can, just give me another chance,"   
  
“You don’t get another chance kid.”   
  
“Python, you’re supposed to—“   
  
“I’m not supposed to be _babysittin_ ’ you, if that’s what you were going to say.” He says. Tobin’s shocked at how easily he goes from disinterest to disdain.    
For once in his life, he gives a shit and it's over a wandering gaze. His eyes widen as Python walks past him, a frown on his lips. “If you’re going to waste a lesson mooning over—“   
  
“Please stop,” Tobin says as sternly as he can.   
  
He ignores him, pointing a gloved finger towards the young ladies and their steeds. “—over pegasus knights rather than the enemy before you, I’m not going to waste my time.” He says, stringing the additional bow over his chest.    
  
“I wasn’t mooning—“ he argues as quietly as he can. Python’s loudness has garnered the attention of Clair, who looks over her shoulder with a raised brow. He lowers his voice even further.    
  
“Fine, staring at the knights. _That_ better?” Python japes bitterly, voice growing louder.   
  
“Python, please.” He begs. His cheeks flush in embarrassment as he lowers his head.    
  
“Keep your head in the clouds, and you’ll sooner shoot her in the back than in the heart.” He warns, looping the other bow around his back this time. Faye and Clair have stopped their lesson, glancing over to them. Tobin stares at the ground, face burning and fists clenching as he sneaks a glance towards the two again. They look up as Python walks off, leaving Tobin to flush bitterly and kick up dust as he leaves the training field.    


* * *

  
  
Tobin finds Python with Forsyth after the meal. They’re sitting out at the edge of camp. There’s a fine view of rolling Zofian meadows that used to be farmers’ fields. The soil is too barren to grow now and what used to be crop space is now a large grass meadow. An unwanted fallow covers the land—no villagers wish to plant grain or vegetables that will be trampled by cavalry and infantry. Honestly, Tobin can't blame them. Even if there wasn't a war going on, the earth wouldn't nuture their crops--Mila's turned her back towards her people and in the place of bountiful harvests from the soil and good weather, they get Terrors rising from the earth and hot, sunny days that come in abundance with no sign of rain for days.

The sky above is clear, twinkling stars lighting up the dim night. There’s a lantern between the lieutenant and archer and a bottle of ale at Python’s fingertips. Alcohol is forbidden amongst the Deliverance—or at least, heavily frowned upon unless it’s in the hands of the holy and offered to Mila’s servants. I _f they’re trying to hide it from others, they’re doing a shit job._ Tobin thinks.  
  
Forsyth’s loud and chipper voice dies down as he notices Tobin’s lingering shadow. The knight leans closer. “Python, I think you have a visitor—“  
  
The archer is stretched out against a log, arms across the bark. He cranes his head around, a smarmy smile on his face. “Oh there she is, the angel coming to save us sinners—“ his voice dies down as he notices Tobin.   
  
“It’s not Lady Silque.” Forsyth says with a short laugh. Python’s smile turns to a frown as he turns away from the villager.   
  
“Can I talk to you?” Tobin asks. He’s pleased by the slip-up on Python’s part, but it’s not enough to quell the annoyance from humiliating him earlier.   
  
Python’s got the bottle of ale in his hand and a frown on his face. “I’m off duty kid.” He says gruffly.   
  
“Python, our job is to mentor—“ Forsyth warns, spiralling into a short lecture on the importance of questions and being open to helping at all times. Python rolls his eyes, his fingers and thumb moving along to the lecture he’s heard thousands of times.   
  
As Forsyth finishes, sitting tall and proud, Python throws back another drink of his ale. “Fine.” He says, forcing a smile that looks more strained than sincere. “What do you want, bowl cut?”   
  
“I need to speak privately.” He says, glancing to Forsyth, who is already on his feet. "Sorry, sir."  
  
“Say no more. I’ll go see if Lady Silque needs help.” He says. “I’ll give her your regards.”  
  
“That and tell her I’ll be seein' her tonight.” Python calls, waving the bottle in the air.  
  
“You better not be!” Forsyth warns sternly, he turns away beginning the short walk back to their encampment.   
  
The archer chuckles lowly before glancing to Tobin. He lays further back against the log, staring off into the night sky. His smile and pleasure fades in the blink of an eye. “What do you want?” He asks.  
  
“I’m sorry about practice today.”  
  
“Are you?” Python challenges, glancing to him. “Because you don’t look it. You look like you’re a kid who got caught stealin' goodies.”   
  
Tobin scoffs, regretting the idea to apologize. “You know, you can be such an asshole sometimes. Like today.”  
  
“That makes two of us.”  
  
Tobin frowns. “Why were you so short during the lesson?” He asks, crossing his arms. “I’m every bit as strong as you and yet you’re treating me like an idiot. I know how to take aim, I know how to shoo—“  
  
Python interrupts, a harsh gaze narrowing on him. “Because while I have talent, you’ve got focus.” He says, tipping the bottle back. “And it’s _not_ on the bow in your hands.”  
  
“It is!” He argues. “I’m focused, I can handle myself—“  
  
“Then how come you were staring at Clair and Faye the entire session?” He demands, placing the bottle on the ground and crossing his arms. “I could’ve sworn I saw a puddle of drool at your feet. No girl thinks that’s cute.”  
  
“You wouldn’t understand.” Tobin scoffs, glancing away.  
  
“Ha! You speak like I haven’t seen my share of girl problems.” Python says. He juts a thumb at himself.   
  
“Who would date you?”  
  
“Who said I _dated_ them?” He retorts with a smarmy smirk.   
  
Tobin internally gags, thinking of poor Silque dealing with this drunk bastard. “You’re despicable.”  
  
“True love doesn’t exist kid.” He says, pointing a finger at him. “And it’s not worth losing your life over. If you don’t put your training first, you’ll be dead on the battlefield and she won’t give a damn.”  
  
Tobin stays quiet. “You speak from experience?”   
  
“Maybe.”  
  
There’s a silence that follows as Python tilts back the bottle again. A frown crosses Tobin’s lips as Python speaks again. “You gotta work this out though. You can’t go riskin’ your neck just for a glance at a girl. Besides, she'd think it's weird. Which it is.”  
  
“Do I have to?” He says, face scrunching up at the thought of spilling his heart out to his dipshit mentor.   
  
“It’ll help.” Python says. “And I won’t judge. That much...”  
  
Tobin lets out a sigh, lowering himself onto the log. Python‘s arm stretches out, holding the bottle between his fingertips and taps it against Tobin’s knee. He hesitates for a second before taking it, swirling the ale around for a second as he thinks. He takes a drink, relishing the bitter barley taste on his tongue.  
  
“So lay it down. Which one of them has your fancy?” The elder asks before leaning forwards. “Unless they both do—“  
  
“Gods no.” Tobin says, almost sputtering out the alcohol. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, regretting the decision to talk with Python. The elder holds his hand out for the bottle.  
  
“Who then?”  
  
Tobin shifts nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. His mentor, asking him a personal question on which girl he admired more. A disgusting man, who is trying to bond with him over women. _A bond is a bond,_ Tobin thinks, staying quiet.  
  
“Should I guess then?” Python asks, rubbing his chin in false thought. “Probably Clair. You and the other rugrat have that competition going on right? Word of warning, she _is_ annoying. Won’t shut the hell up unless her brother tells her to. Maybe let your sucker of a friend have her—”  
  
“It’s not Clair.” Tobin says quickly. He covers his face with his hands.  
  
Python’s brow raises as he leans towards him. “ _Faye?_ ” He asks in disbelief.  
  
“What?” Tobin says. “She’s my friend and lately I’ve been worried about her...”  
  
“ _Riiiiight_. Worried about her.” Python nods, taking another sip of the ale. “Be honest... are you getting jealous over her and Sir Grandson?”  
  
“No.” Tobin says, face flushed.  
  
“Oh, so you’re okay with being second choice?”   
  
“No.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know why she’s so head over heels for him, I just wish it were different, but it’s not so.”  
  
“Why is she like that then?” He asks, intrigued by the gossip. He passes him the bottle. Instead of drinking, Tobin just swirls it around slowly, focusing on the circular movements.   
  
“When we were kids, a knight visited our village. He wasn’t the good kind either.”  
  
“There’s a good kind of knight?” Python japes.  
  
“Anyways, Alm saved her from being taken captive,” Tobin says. “I... I might’ve gotten us into that situation for the record.”  
  
Python lets out a harsh laugh. “Then I don’t blame her for looking past you.” He says.   
  
“Gee thanks.” Tobin says sarcastically.  
  
“So you’re childhood friends? You older than her? She might like a guy who can take care of her.” Python suggests.  
  
“She’s a year older than me. And you’ve seen her, she’s a demon!” He says.  
  
Python hoists himself up onto the log, rolling his neck so it cracks. “She’s been there, like... _everywhere_.” Tobin says. “She used to horse around with us back when we were kids, and seeing her as a knight now is just... weird.”  
  
Python nods before narrowing his gaze. “That it?”  
  
“I don’t know.”  
  
“How can you not know?” Python asks, brow furrowing. “Last battle you almost got hit twice because you were staring at the back of her head—“  
  
“She’s pretty okay?!” He says. “Really pretty...”  
  
“So you’ve got a thing for the weird girls who pine after guys who aren't interested and then don’t even acknowledge you.”  
  
“Faye isn’t weird!”   
  
“Easy stud.” Python says, holding his hands up. “Meant no harm.”  
  
The younger archer hangs his head, taking another drink from the bottle. “Gods, this is embarrassing.”  
  
“The feeling’s mutual kid.” Python says. “But I’m not about to train you if you can’t keep your focus on your target and not her bu—“ Tobin’s fierce glare stops him for a split second, but that aggravating annoyance resurfaces. “Backside.”   
  
“What do you suggest then?”  
  
“You have to work around these things.” Python says. “Believe me, it’s tough but you’ll grow used to it.”  
  
“Or else?”  
  
“Or else you’ll be the one shooting down Faye.” He says, leaning over to swipe the bottle up.   
  
“How do I work around them?”   
  
“Two options. Maybe three if you’re adventurous.” Python says, holding up three fingers and wiggling the third. “The first you get over her.”  
  
Tobin stares dumbly at him.   
  
He shrugs. “Worth a shot. Gods, I hate young love.” He mutters. “Second, you get Alm to break her heart. She likes him right?”  
  
“I think she’s still in love with him,”   
  
“All he has to do is say no. She’d probably back off after that.” Python says. “She comes off as meek and polite enough, so it seems the best option,”  
  
“What if I don’t wanna break her heart?” Tobin asks, glancing to the other archer. “I don’t think I could do that to her. She’s my friend before anything else.”  
  
Python smirks, clearly enjoying such scuttlebutt. “Number three which is only for brave souls...”  
  
“I’m brave enough.” He insists, leaning towards Python.   
  
Python leans towards Tobin and flicks his nose. “You tell her how you feel.” 

The younger rests his elbows on his knees, hanging his head once again.  “She’d laugh in my face.” He whines.    
  
“So?”   
  
“So I’d be embarrassed!” Tobin says tiredly.    
  
“Hey, it’s her loss if she don’t like you for you.”   
  
“You sound like my Ma.”   
  
“Listen,” Python says quietly, his voice low and serious. He touches Tobin’s shoulder. “You know Faye right? What she likes and doesn’t?”   
  
“I’ve got an idea.”    
  
“Would she laugh you off?”   
  
“I don’t think so...”   
  
“Then that’s enough right?”   
  
“Easy enough for you to say, all you have to worry about is making Silque blush.” Tobin says annoyedly. He takes another drink from the bottle, this time longer and headier.    
  
“Hey, if heaven is real and speaks, she’d be the last one talkin.” Python says with a shrug.   
  
The younger hands the rest of the bottle to Python, leaning towards him. “So is she your girl?”    
  
Python almost chokes. “Gods no,” He says, snatching the bottle of ale from Tobin's hands, frowning. “Enough for you, lush.”   
  
“Speak for yourself,” Tobin says under his breath.    
  
“Listen to me, all you have to do is be honest with her. Go at your own pace.” Python says.    
  
Tobin nods. “Yeah whatever.”   
  
Another bout of silence falls as Python raises the bottle to his lips and finishes it off. He sits up, hauling his arm back as far as he can and throws it into the meadow. It rolls off, out of their line of sight. Tobin glances up, looking for any sign of it in the night.    
  
Python nudges his shoulder. “C’mon, what are you going to say,” he asks.    
  
“What?” Tobin asks.    
  
“Out with it. What are you going to say to Faye?” Python asks. “A part of archery is knowing your stance and your target. Think of it that way.“   
  
“What do you want to pretend you’re her?”   
  
“No idiot,” he says. “What would you say to Faye if she were—you know, here.”  His face blanches, glancing up behind him. Tobin doesn’t notice the silent footsteps or light pink dress of the pegasus knight. Python avoids her gaze, telling her to go with a wide flash of his eyes.    
  
She’s too headstrong to turn around, instead taking another threatening step forwards. Python hides a smirk as Tobin rambles.    
  
“I don’t know... probably that she’s really pretty and that she’s always on my mind? Is that cheesy?” He asks, rubbing the back of his neck. “Probably is. Wait, no. I should tell her that I really care about her. That I like her the way she is... That she doesn't need to change a hair on her head or stitch on her dress. She's perfect as is.”   
  
Python hides behind his hand, shaking his head. “What? Is that too corny? Too dorky?” He asks. “Python c’mon, don’t leave me hanging—“   
  
“ _Tobin?_ ”    
  
His blood freezes for a second before boiling. His gaze narrows on Python who pretends to stretch. “Well I think I’m going to go see our favourite healer now,” He says quickly, winking at the younger of the two. “Eyes on the target, stud.”   
  



End file.
